


magic cannot fix everything, Harry

by Sinammon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Bella Swan Bashing, Bottom Harry Potter, Crossover, Fluff and Angst, Healing, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Magic, Master of Death Harry Potter, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possibly Mpreg, References to Depression, References to Minor Character Death, Slash, The Golden Trio Fluff, Top Edward Cullen, True Mates, Vampires, Volturi, What am I doing?, sorry if you do not like that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28381884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinammon/pseuds/Sinammon
Summary: Harry wants to forget the perils he faced and the deaths he caused. And one spell could be the answer for him, but magic cannot fix everything.But love? Love does, even for someone so broken.
Relationships: Edward Cullen/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Past Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 98





	magic cannot fix everything, Harry

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I just wanted to let everyone know I did not read the Twilight books nor watch the movie series I'm basing all of this on the Fandom and knowledge from fanfiction I read in the past. I hope I did not already veer off potential readers already, ;sigh; 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it. This is Unbeta'd and Slash, so be warned. 
> 
> A/N (2): Vocabulary usage is probably my most common mistake. That and grammar, to be honest. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything, just this fanfiction. Equates to nothing, really.

For a while Harry did not feel like staying in the Wizarding World was healthy. Was it because he had just fought in a war he barely won? Was it the expectations everyone had on his shoulders after Voldemort fell? Countless suggestions could be made, but the half-lidded beautiful green eyes that held so much life within them six years ago had grown dimmer, and dimmer until the light snuffed itself out. Maybe the world was done with him? He has completed his job, he had completed the task he trained oh so much for; so maybe he could rip a hole in reality, tear it up, and simply fall-

No, no, bad thoughts. Harry shook his head, patting his cheeks with his calloused hands. 

Hermione had suggested he should see a mind-healer, and maybe it would help if he went to the sessions she had scheduled for him. But he didn’t have the energy to, sticking to his bed and lazing around all day, snuggling with those dark thoughts in the back of his mind. They would keep him up at night, cradling him until the sun met the dark sky; then, then he could finally close his eyes and not see those red, gleaming rubies he hated so much. He knows his best friend meant well, she always looked out for him even if he didn’t want her to. She leaves food at his door, making sure he ate that day. The packages she left were very cute, but he couldn’t eat so much. She could also take him out on walks to color his wan, pasty skin, but he would be sleeping until the evening greeted his awakened, saggy eyes. 

She eventually confronted him about his reclusive nature that only grew every single time she would intervene. Harry completely shut her out when she brought Ron into his own personal drama, and then there would be fights between the three of them; yelling, yelling, and more yelling until his best friends grew tired and apparated away, back to the Burrow, back to where they were just a few minutes ago -- separated. To think the former Boy-Who-Lived would have the heart to beg for forgiveness and ask for the help he desperately needed, but he felt nothing… he felt empty, not just mentally, he -- he felt null, void… nothing. 

Maybe, maybe he should start another journey -- just maybe, maybe he could start over again. As the old coot said, ‘Death is but the next greatest adventure!’ and he could see the potential, he could see the _promise_ in such a great escape. 

Maybe Nev-

No… no, he’s dead, right? Luna, may- 

She’s also dead. His fault. Never got there in time. Fucking idiot. Dumbass twat. If he was there…

If he was there… would they still be alive? 

What if he wasn’t born? His parents would be breathing, living a happy life without the worry of a madman breathing down their necks. Cedric. Oh his sweet Cedric wouldn’t be the ‘spare’ and killed on sight. His friends wouldn’t fight a battle they weren’t ready for, but… “Shit… fuck,” he hissed.

Tears spilled from his eyes, a whimper escaped his mouth, and his hands began to shake. He sat on his knees, his hands raking through his hair, grabbing it in a vice grip until he could feel himself pull several strands from his scalp. A wail filled the empty room. He tucked his legs under his chest and pressed himself against the wall. He felt like his world crashed down -- he didn’t have enough power to keep it afloat. 

But suddenly, he felt tired. Could people die of a heart break? Could they easily fade away, knowing their very existence resulted in the death of others? He didn’t know, but he felt so tired; he didn’t want to feel his heart aching anymore, he didn’t want to feel the tears building in his eyes. So he closed them shut and felt his body drift off into the slumber he craved for.

And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t wake up.

~

“You’re still worrying about him?” 

“Of course I am, Ronald,” Hermione raked her long, bird-like fingers through her maintained curly hair. “No matter how much I want to yell and scream at that knucklehead, he is still my -- our -- best friend, and he’s going through such a tough time! But I don’t know how to help someone that doesn’t want the help.” The brightest witch of her age knew she could not force her brother in all but blood to submit to her help. She couldn’t force a horse to drink water. 

Ron, upon closer inspection, looked haggard. His eyes drooped much like the times they were on the run from both the Wizarding public and Death Eaters. He stayed up all night worrying about his best friend, retiring only when Hermione assured him that Harry wouldn’t so much as think about committing suicide. But…

Seeing him in the flesh made Ron shiver, actually shiver; he felt it tickle his spine until it was gone in a split second. Harry looked… aptly put it, dead. When they were eleven, Ron could recall the times where he saw Harry’s eyes sparkled with life as they trekked towards Hogwarts, or when there was a display of amazing magic being performed. Getting targeted took its toll on him and it's frighteningly apparent. Ron believed what brought Harry to the edge was Cedric’s and Sirius’ deaths. 

And what pushed him over was the war.

“Were we too tough on him?” Hermione wondered out loud, her eyes scanning the area as if Harry would appear suddenly in the Burrow’s kitchen. “What if -- what if something happens to him or, worse, he’d become even more suicidal?! What if he thinks that we, his best friends, walked out on him?!” 

Ron wrapped his arms around his hysterical girlfriend, pulling her closer until she could hear his heartbeat pounding against his chest. He too was nervous, he too had his doubts but he could never find the right words to voice his thoughts. Instead, he pulled Hermione closer and prayed to Merlin or whoever out there could help his best friend. 

And Merlin forbid, help him soon. 

~

Hermione calmed down, wiping some of the left over tears she had streaming down her face. “He can’t stay here,” Hermione whispered. Ron heard her very well as he was perched on her lap. “It’s not healthy. The public is ousting him for not contributing a lot to Hogwarts’ reparations. They see him as a person to pin all the blame on caused by their own selfishness, and their own cowardice. He needs a break,” Hermione pressed her hand against Ron’s own calloused ones. 

“Where do you propose he should go?” Ron asked, his body slowly moving to get in a more comfortable position. 

“Out of Britain, that’d be a perfect start…” Hermione’s eyes brightened slightly. “There is this small town in America called Forks. I only know of it because that’s where my parents spent their honeymoon; they say it's peaceful, if a bit stuffy with the whole small-town buzz.”

“If that’s where he should go, then we should do that for him,” Ron nodded his head. 

“I will get his accommodations ready,” Hermione reached over the couch to pick up the first picture the Golden Trio had taken together, framed proudly in a nice wooden frame. Will they be able to see that brilliant smile of his again?

Ron lifted himself, craning his neck over the sofa frame and examined the picture. “He looked so happy, then. That was taken after his first Quidditch match, yeah?”

Hermione nodded. “He was so happy despite literally eating the Snitch,” she snorted. She sniffled, these memories really weren’t helping her current turmoil. 

The couple sat in complete silence, which grew deafening as they pulled the photo album Hermione had made to cherish the memories she had with her friends. It had pictures of them together at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, even pictures of when Hermione was in the medical wing due to her mild interaction with the Basilisk. She flipped through the memories, some she laughed, the others she felt her heart break into unfixable pieces. Then she found the perfect picture. 

It was in their fourth year, where Harry had confessed he was in a loving relationship with their senior, Cedric Diggory. A picture of them near the Black Lake where Harry and Hermione loved to read their cherished literature. Ron had his arms around Harry’s shoulders, staring at Cedric Diggory as if he wanted to rip the Prefect’s head off. Harry had a bright, loving smile on his face, all for Diggory, Hermione wagered. Cedric was slightly behind Harry, his head leaning over Harry’s tousled black curls, where he was evidently pressing a kiss against the smaller boy. 

Cedric was Harry’s first and last relationship. All good things always come to an end, even if it leads to a tragedy.

“We should go with him…” She sharply inhaled, feeling those bright blue eyes staring at her face. “I can’t trust him… I can’t trust him not-not…” She whimpered. She can’t see him hanging on the ceiling. She can’t see him on the floor swimming in his own blood. She can't see him sleeping lifelessly on the bed. She can’t bear the pain it would bring her heart. She can barely bear it now, the sharp, tingling pain she felt on her chest, making it a bit difficult to breathe. 

“‘Mione, as much as I would love for us to live with each other…” Ron pressed his knuckles against his eyes, hoping the tears he felt building in his eyes wouldn’t start dripping down his face. “You know how he is with these sorta things, love. Blimey, he’d probably never stay at the Burrow ‘cause he knows mum would smother him to death. He can’t-- he can’t… the way he was treated back with _those people_ \-- bloody hell, Mione…” 

“But what if he kills himself? What then, Ronald?!” She exclaimed. “We’re magical beings, but we are _not_ miracle workers. If we aren’t there, who would watch out for him? He can’t be by himself, we-”

“What’s wrong?” Ron’s eyes widened when Hermione shot off the couch, her eyes filled with panic. 

Hermione gulped. “I’ll explain later,” She had picked up her cloak that was draped around the coat hanger near the door. Hermione quickly wrapped herself around the thick cloth. “We have to apparate to Grimmaulds, _now_!” 

Ron nodded, grabbing his own cloak and apparated with Hermione. 

~

  
“He’s just sleeping,” Hermione kneeled on the floor, her face buried in her arms. 

She had riled herself up for nothing. She felt the charm ring in her ears which gave her a bit of a headache, but it served as a warning that something had occurred with Harry. She knew the charm would have its shortcomings. It obviously didn’t take into account that behaviors change when sleeping. But she did find it odd.

She found him sleeping at night odd. He didn’t explicitly say he had insomnia, Hermione had that figured out when would answer the door. Those bags under his eyes told her he had sleepless nights and would sleep in the daytime; she had tried to get him out of the house, but he’d be sleeping on the couch or other odds and ends in Grimmauld’s Place soundly. 

“Should we stay?” Ron asked, he placed a pitcher filled with water on the end table and served Harry a glass of water, just in case. 

“No, no, I have to get him a place, and then-- and then, we have to monitor his every move; he won’t like it, but I can’t trust his mind far enough than I can throw.” Hermione hovered a diagnostic spell over Harry. “I didn’t think a diagnostic spell could find an impaired occlumens shield.”

“Kind of makes sense,” Ron murmured. “Harry was always a hot-head.”

Hermione, despite the situation, couldn’t help the giggle that streamed out of her mouth. “Too true. Stubborn to a fault too… but he stopped a bit after he started dating Diggory. Calmed down a little, thought about his actions before he committed. Something he doesn’t do anymore…” 

Ron quickly enchanted their feet with a muffling charm so Harry couldn’t hear the creaking of the floor. “I agree,” he said after a minute pause. “I agree, ‘Mione…”

“What?” A pause and realization soon permeated. “Oh… _oh…_ ” she whimpered a little. Hermione’s eyes shined, tears building until it completely flooded her vision. “Thank you, love…” 

Ron divested his cloak and hung it in the appropriate hanger in the entrance way. “I’ll pack his stuff and we take the first portkey that leaves in the morning. Bloody hell what have I gotten myself into now, Harry?” He hissed the question with no bite, just fondness for his best friend. 

He turned away from his best friend to attend to the luggage he had conjured into existence. Hand-me-down clothes from Harry’s closet floated from their hangers and folded into the open luggage, leaving some space for the pictures Harry had displayed on his empty nightstand. Ron had given Hermione a small smirk before attending the rest of the creepy Grimmauld’s Place, checking every nook and cranny for anything Harry may want in their new home away from home. 

“He isn’t much of a decorator, is he?” Ron’s eyes softened at the picture of Cedric Harry had painted near the fireplace. It was a memorabilia from Cedric’s mother, Lyanna, a gift she said; something for him to be remembered, especially by someone Cedric loved the most outside his family. 

Ron transfigured it into a pendant. He was rubbish at Transfiguration, but he could do that much for his best friend. 

Hermione, jostled with Ron’s diligence, nodded her head mostly to herself. She silently apparated to make the arrangements. 

Merlin hopes the goblins did not hold a grudge. 

~

They did hold a grudge. 

But they were kind enough -- as kind as a goblin could be -- to allow them safe passage to America. They also apparently owed Harry a debt, saying something along the lines of repaying the damages they had caused to Gringotts without any prompting needed. It was, to say the least, quite surprising to see a bunch of goblins bowing generously low to the floor. 

They provided a list of properties the Potter’s owned throughout the land and, as Professor McGonagall had called it _‘sheer dumb luck’,_ Harry had apparently owned a few properties in the Seattle area. One particularly in Forks. As Harry wasn’t in a stable state of mind, all rights to his properties and riches were left to the two living entities he had named in his will -- that being them. Although the entire process was arduous, the goblins granted Hermione and Ron the Potter estate in Forks, Seattle, and passports for them to use as verification. Fortunately, Hermione and Ron had already acquired their personal IDs while they were searching for Hermione’s parents -- so there would be no issue there. 

The problem is Harry… 

Having explained this minor inconvenience, the goblins had suggested they bring the resting Potter to their building. Where they would provide Harry’s identification through… magic? Hermione hasn't the foggiest how they procured the identification cards so quickly from, but the usually rule-abiding woman didn’t have the time to ponder. 

They had a portkey to catch. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the read! Hope you enjoyed! Leaving a kudos or a comment would warm my buns <3 
> 
> Stay safe!


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